Thernardiess
by Scherzando
Summary: Mme. Thernardier's (Jondrette's?) thoughts after Javert arrives at the Gorbeau tenement. Inspired by the LMFFI's story card game.


Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Victor Hugo, who created this wonderful story to play in and the wonderful characters to mercilessly butcher. The story itself was inspired by the story card game on the Les Miserables Fan Fiction Index. The portions of text lifted from the book were provided by the 's version of _Les Miserables_. This was churned out in about thirty minutes and has yet to be beta-read, so I offer my humblest apologies for any errors you may find, and I beg you to leave constructive criticism so they may be corrected. : )

She surveyed the inspector gentlemen, a paving stone held above her head. She had never been a creature of much intelligence, but her convictions and attachments were great, sufficing her with the strength to ward off a room of bogies who were after the man cowering behind her. The policeman before her gave off an air of cunning, though not particularly cleverness; much more of a once-genius mind restrained voluntarily by rules and regulations. He was determined, much like herself, but absolutely certain that he would win. She realized her struggle against him was fruitless, but felt no great hurry to let him know she herself knew. It rose her but one hair above the inspector, but to a woman such as herself, being but a fraction of that was an accomplishment. The inspectors crawled around like cockroaches; they never left, and if one was killed, four more would replace him. They didn't realize her way of life; they thought it one easily reparable, as if her crimes were somehow her fault, and she would one day wake up and reverse her life completely. They didn't realize the struggles leading to where she was now, they didn't comprehend the difficulties behind surviving that drove them to an easier side of the law. In an instant she hated him; hated the inspector for thinking lowly of her, hated him for destroying something that wasn't ever his business, hated _them_ for driving toward her current life, hated herself for becoming what she was.

"Beware!" She heard her voice croak, holding the stone ever higher while surveying the room for anyone daring to near her. She glared, as much as her bleary eyes could manage to do so, at the handcuffed villains, muttering, "The cowards!" at their apparent inability to make themselves at all useful. They held a man hostage – a rich man, at that – and yet seemed completely inept when it came to doing simple things like remaining. Surrender was too easy a resolution, and the pure fury coursing through her veins prevented her from realizing her dire situation fully. She was still utterly mad, both in the emotional and mental senses. The idiot inspector crawled toward her, a simpering smile plastered onto his face. He still assumed he had the better hand, and that doubled her anger to a frenzied pitch.

"Don't come near me or I'll crush you!" She had given him fair warning, and was thoroughly strained enough with absolute hate toward him and his kind that one more step toward her would push her entirely off the brink. She felt as though she were standing on a precipice, preparing to embrace a suicidal fall.

"What a grenadier!" the man exclaimed, his inane grin a mockery of her own; "You've got a beard like a man, mother, but I have claws like a woman." He walked forward, and she briefly entertained the thought of the satisfying crunch his bones would make as they were crushed by her heavy load. She wouldn't mind the drop, now, if it meant she would be taken seriously for once. She would show those bastards who she was, they – no, _he_ – would fear her as the others in the room did. One step. Two steps. He continued advancing, obviously not respecting her warnings. He would be put into his place, he would learn to hold her in the highest regard. Fear, that what she wanted to inspire. She wanted those around her to feel her rage, to cower before her, to see what she was truly capable of. She would make _him_ see what she was capable of. The damnable inspector was still advancing!

Without thinking, she drew back and hurled the stone at his face, aiming to wipe the maniac grin that was affixed to his gruesome features. He ducked, and the stone bounced off a wall before slowing to a halt at his feet. Her rage melted, and she meekly lowered her eyes. Before she could think, handcuffs had bound her hands together, and she did nothing but stare blankly at them.

He was still smirking.


End file.
